


Sonata and Interlude

by Spera_via



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: new beginings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 02:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11174715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spera_via/pseuds/Spera_via
Summary: A time of transition... and a bit of an explanation.





	1. Sonata

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after I had left my guild, in game. Writing is a way for me to figure out my feelings... and it sort of explains a name change. Which is helpful.

(A1)  
/Commander Aräbella,

I apologize for the circumstances of this letter. I understand that it would have gone to Captain Duine, though I am unsure as to when his extended leave will be ending. So, unto you, I am entrusting this information.

Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what has become of Captain Tris'tio. It seems that, after he left the Call he did not return home. The Captain is a man who, when he wants to be, can be impossible to find.

While I do not know his whereabouts or actions, I do know that he is alive, the Force tells me this much.

Lieutenant Eist'ea'lasra, upon hearing of the Captain's... departure, promptly resigned and left. Her whereabouts are also unknown, but I sense more purpose in her path.

As for myself, the Force calls me back to Ilum, and I, it's humble servant, must obey.

Again, I apologize for the state of affairs surrounding this letter, and I'm sure the Lieutenant and Captain would... at the very least, apologize for their actions as well.

If you ever have need of my counsel, feel free to contact me.  
Elliahas Dathend/

The author of the letter sat on a mat in the middle of a chamber made from ice. Brilliant crystals of purple, blue, and green sprouted from the walls. The hummed in in a harmony as their light brightened and dimmed along with the light surrounding the man who sat on the ground. 

(BV)  
They, the crystals, had agreed to help him broaden his reach through the Force and so he sat, for… how long had it been? Elliahas pushed the question away. Time seemed to slow and blur in meditation, and it did not matter to him anyway when he was. Only that he was. 

Elliahas relaxed his mind again and let it drift, looking for familiar feelings. His nephew- kindness, impetuousness, a spot of gold flickered to him from a distance. He brushed over it, feeling the acknowledgement, but did not pursue more. His nephew reached back, curious but understanding when Elliahas gently pushed him away. 

He expanded again, recognizing another familiar light. Bright and cold, shimmering, laced with a temper and stubbornness he had come to find endearing, though not through this person. Eist’es’lasra was on edge. Not being Force sensitive, she could not sense his presence, though it didn’t matter. She was wrapped up in her own thoughts, full of worry. Searching.

(Modulation V)  
He left her and, with the help from the crystals, sank deeper into the force. Searching for a presence that was almost as familiar to him as his own. He fell among veins of color and light. 

Planets seemed to lay out before him, flattening into tapestries of lives and connections. Elliahas, carefully, fell among them. An observer in a gallery, looking for one prick, one thread. 

The crystals sang their encouragement. Ilum had filled them with energy, and they were happy to share. Elliahas embraced that feeling and kept searching. 

Finally, a hint, from a letter of all things.

(A1)  
/It has been far too long since our last meeting. I have recently acquired some tea from Voss that I would like to share with you at your earliest convenience. 

I look forward to our next meeting./

The letter was written by an unknown source, but the sentiments towards the individual, he knew very well. The humor, the stubbornness, the kindness, the sadness. 

(B1)  
He followed the letter from Dromund Kaas to Rishi, of all places. There, among the animals, the brute force, the wilderness, he found his thread. Dim and augmented from what he had known before, but real and very much alive. And what was more, the Force was working in his life. As he studied the thread, he felt two more pulls towards the individual. The Force was at work here. 

With a sigh of relief, Elliahas rose gently out of his meditation. He thanked the crystals and headed for the mouth of his cave, vaguely wondering how long it had been since he had last ate.


	2. Interlude

He had always been impetuous. The man sitting in the black sand shook his head and adjusted the recovery probe’s digging location. He shifted to make himself more comfortable and leaned against a cluster of boulders sticking out of the remote and shallow pool. The probe’s grappling hook shot through the shallow water and into the sand below. 

Whether it was mouthing off to the wrong Sith, blocking a superior officer from doing their job, trying to break out of a kolto tank, or escaping from medical while severely wounded, he had always been action-first. 

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that he walked out like he did. Not really.

The probe flashed red and came up empty handed. 

/I was unhappy./ The man decided as he set the probe again, this time at a different location. /I was unhappy in a position where I was blocked at every turn, where I wasn’t good enough./ He sighed. He was lying to himself. Those were minor irritations. 

/I got complacent. I was too comfortable and was losing a part of myself./ 

He ran a hand over his face. That wasn’t entirely true either. Sure, he had turned from his casual, joking self into some serious Captain- the leader that Intelligence needed and deserved. No sense of humor, no nonsense... but it wasn’t due to being complacent. 

His mind drifted to his run-in with his old boss. He shuddered as he remembered the way she looked at him. He couldn’t ignore the poisoned words that had dripped from her lips as she brought up Seth. As they had eaten away at his resolve when she asked him if he could, honestly, ask others to join him.

And his mind had jumped to his friend. The man he once called brother.

The probe flashed red and came up empty. It was reset.

It was like a crack had appeared in the wall he had built for himself. As he left his old boss’s ship questions began to form. They chased each other around and around his head while a brick seemed to form in his stomach.

Could he ask Zepp’o to have the same frustrations he did? Would he be okay monitoring his friend’s behavior so he didn’t accidentally set his, then current, boss off? Could he stay neutral if and when Zepp’o made her angry? When her temper got the better of her and she lit into him like she had done so with the other members of their organization? With the same need for control that had dimmed his own fire and made him watch his step when talking with her?

His answer was no. Each time his leader had lost her temper when a person couldn’t read her mind, his patience had thinned. Each time she panicked because someone danced outside her vice-like grip of control, his temper had flared. 

And this realization had hit him. A wrecking ball into the concrete dam that had kept all of his anger in check. It came out, a flood that consumed him. He had found himself snapping at recruits that evening. But even then, his job of Head of Intelligence came second as he found himself, again, in the position of playing peacemaker. 

The next day, he remembered sitting in his office, at his desk, glaring at the doors on the other side of the room. The agents in the Intelligence Office had given up trying to talk to him. Instead they tip-toed around his desk, flashing worried looks at each other. He ignored them. 

It had been normal to come in to find their Captain asleep at his desk, or under it for that matter. It had been normal to find him so engrossed in an article, or examining footage that he didn’t hear them trying to get his attention. 

But this? This silent staring? This was, this was new. This was odd for a man who was already odd. 

And the Captain couldn’t shake the feeling of an iron band wrapped around his chest. 

The probe flashed red and came up empty. 

The man remembered how numb his fingers had felt as he had lifted the Captain’s stripes from his uniform. How they looked as he had gently laid them on his desk. Mouth dry, the numbness from his fingers spreading over his body, he had stood.  
The limp pieces of fabric against his desk- an image seared into his brain forever. 

Then, he had taken a breath and walked out. He did not look back. 

The probe hovered above the shallows patiently as the man buried his face in his hands. Grief washed over him like the waves that sloshed against the shore where he sat. He had known he was leaving those he had tried so hard to protect. Those he had grown to care about. His chest ached. 

The probe was reset and the man turned his attention to different memories. 

The first thing he had done was go to Nar Shadaa. He went to his sky palace and sent all of his stored data to his back up systems on Dromund Kaas. After making sure no trace of sensitive material could be recovered, he dressed in his old surveillance outfit.

Then he set fire to place.

He left as it burned and didn't look back. He beelined for the spaceport and stowed away on the first ship out- a cargo ship to Tatooine.

It didn't take long for him to join up with a scavenging group. A merry quintet. A group who joked about his blue skin and shyness, but were welcoming nonetheless. 

His time with them was short. That evening they had traveled too far into Sand People territory and were ambushed as they slept. The man's skills and the distraction of the Sand People were the only things that had kept him alive. 

However, when they had killed the rest of his group and turned on him, the man had believed his luck had finally run out. 

He had remembered waking up in a cavern, a yellow, Twi’lek medic explaining who she was, that his team had been killed, that they had been passing nearby in time enough to save him. Apologizing for the fact she could only stop the bleeding and infection in his throat after the Sand People had tried to tear it out. That he wouldn't be able to speak until he went to a doctor. A specialist in Chiss anatomy.

When the shock subsided, the man felt a peculiar feeling start to blossom in his chest. He was free. Everyone he knew probably thought he was dead after that. All he needed was to vanish, and he could be whatever he wanted to be. The man nearly skipped from the cave after thanking those who saved him. 

He sold most of his possessions at the spaceport to buy a ticket on the first flight out. A small freighter to Rishi. 

Once landing, it took some time, but learned he had a knack for finding things. Valuable things that got washed up on shore or were buried under the muck. His charming personality helped him get in with vendors and buyers easily. He quickly began to build himself a reputation. 

“What do we call you then, No Face?” a buyer had asked. The man, cloaked and masked, stopped and turned. He tilted his head curiously as he considered the man. He hadn't thought of a name for himself. 

He signed the first name that came to his head, one given to him by someone who had cared about him: ‘Kebiin.’ He paused, realizing a last name would probably be good too. At least, that's what non-Chiss had right? He raised his hands to sign:

‘Kebiin G’esi.’


End file.
